A NIGHT WITH A MADMAN
When left alone at the bottom of the ancient shaft, with the
impenetrable gloom of the prehistoric workings crowding him close,
Peveril had found a few minutes in which to reflect upon the strange
happenings of the past half-hour. "Darrell's Folly" was the Copper
Princess, the mine in which he owned a half-interest--the one for
which he had searched so long and had almost given up hopes of
finding. Was it of any value? Or did the name, applied in derision,
rightly describe it? And the old man who had twice attempted to take
his life, whom he had just rescued from a living tomb, was his
partner! How could they ever work harmoniously together? He certainly
should not agree to the carrying on of further smuggling operations,
and so there was a barrier to their amicable relations at the very
outset.
But was that man the person with whom he would have to deal, after
all? He was evidently crazy, and probably had been from the very
first; for Peveril now remembered that Mr. Ketchum had hinted at
something of the kind during their last interview. As a crazy man
could not legally transact business, his dealings would then be with
Ralph Darrell's heirs or legal representatives. Who were those heirs?
Were there any other besides this daughter, Mary? He hoped not. What a
brave, splendid girl she was, and how pleasant it would be to discuss
business plans with her! How absurd of him not to have recognized her
at once, even in her boyish costume, and how stupid she must think
him!
He wished those fellows up above had not been in such a hurry with
that rope, for there were a lot more questions he wanted to ask her.
So many that he would not have objected if he and she had been left
down there together ever so much longer. How different the old mine
seemed now to what it had when he first knew it! Hereafter it would
always be associated in his mind with memories of a slight figure that
he had been permitted to hold for a single minute, a flushed face, a
pair of glorious eyes, and a voice that he should never forget. How
shy she was, and at the same time how dignified; how sweet and womanly
in her anxiety about her father! He hoped they could be friends, as
all business partners should be. Of course they could never be
anything more than that; for he was not forgetting his obligation to
Rose--oh no, not for one minute.
How infernally slow those chaps up above were now, and why didn't they
let down the rope? Were they going to keep him waiting in that beastly
hole forever? It really seemed so.
By a simple process of reasoning, and the putting together of the
various bits of information gained from her father, Mary Darrell had
reached the conclusion that the young man whose fortunes had been so
strangely interwoven with hers during the past ten days was the
rightful owner of the mine that her father had claimed for so many
years. She was too loyal to the latter to believe for a moment that he
had consciously attempted to defraud Peveril of his rights, but
credited all his actions to the sad mental condition of which she had
only now become aware.
"Poor, dear papa!" she said to herself. "He has done splendidly to
take care of me for so long as he has, and now I will take care of
him. We will go away from this horrid place, where he gets so excited,
and find some little home in the East, where he can rest until his
mind is wholly restored.
"In the meantime this Mr. Peveril can have the old mine, to do with as
he pleases. I shall let him know that we consider it his property
before he has a chance to even make a claim against it. I mustn't let
him see for a moment how badly we feel about it, though, for he seems
very nice, and has certainly placed us under a great obligation by
coming to our rescue so splendidly. I wonder how he knew that papa and
I were down in that awful place?"
Having got her father to his room, told Aunty Nimmo to prepare for
company, and hurriedly changed her dress, Mary Darrell greeted the
expected guests according to her privately arranged programme, and
invited them in to supper. After seeing them seated at the table and
provided with a bountiful meal, she left them on the plea that her
father needed her attention.
The girl had not been gone many minutes, and Peveril's friends were
still congratulating him upon having come into his fortune, at the
same time speculating whether the "Folly" was worth anything or not,
when she re-entered the room with a frightened expression on her face.
Addressing herself to Major Arkell, she said:
"Would you mind coming up to see my father, sir? I fear he is very
ill."
The major at once complied with this request, and, after he had gone,
Captain Spillins said: "I shouldn't wonder if the old fellow played
out and left you in sole possession of the Princess, after all, Mr.
Peveril."
"Which Princess are you meanin', captain?" asked Mike Connell. "Sure
it seems to me there's two of them."
"Have a care, Connell," said Peveril, warningly. "Remember the
circumstances under which we are here."
"I beg your pardon, Mister Peril," exclaimed the Irishman, contritely;
"I'd near forgot that you was already bespoke."
A hot flush sprang to the young man's cheek, but ere he could frame a
reply Major Arkell reappeared, looking greatly worried.
"Boys," he said, "we've a very serious case on our hands, and one that
demands immediate action. The old man up-stairs is fairly out of his
head, besides being in a high fever. He needs medical attendance as
quickly as it can be got to him, and careful nursing. I have given him
an opiate, which I hope will keep him quiet for a while, and now I
propose to go to Red Jacket in the tug for a doctor and a nurse.
Captain Spillins will, of course, go with me, and we shall try to be
back by morning. In the meantime the poor young lady must not be left
alone, or with only that old aunty, who is nearly frightened out of
her wits, and so I think you, Peveril, ought to stay here with Connell
and do what you can. You are, in a sense, the proprietor here, you
know, and as Connell has also been here before, maybe the old man will
be more reasonable with you than he would be with entire strangers."
"I quite agree with you that some of us ought to stay here and do what
we can," said Peveril; "and, under the circumstances, I suppose
Connell and I are the ones to do so. At the same time, I haven't had
much experience in caring for madmen."
"No more have I," said Connell, "but I'll do me best, for sake of the
young lady, and maybe she'll forgive me for treating her the same as I
would a lad."
"And, major," added Peveril, "if you will kindly fetch my luggage from
the Trefethen's I shall be greatly obliged."
So the party separated; and, while two of them wended their way back
to the tug at Laughing Fish, the others prepared for the long vigil of
the night.
After the effect of the opiate had passed, their patient was seized
with paroxysms of raving and frantic efforts to leave his bed for the
purpose of protecting his property. At such times it required the
united efforts of the two volunteer nurses to restrain him, and after
each attack he was left weak and helpless as an infant. Then he would
weep, and beg piteously not to be abandoned to the mercy of his
enemies; or he would fancy himself still in the awful blackness of the
ancient workings, and plead with his attendants not to be left thereto
die.
"For the sake of my daughter, gentlemen--my only child--who has no one
else in the world to love her or care for her, I beg of you to save
me. If you are human, take pity on her and let me go!" he would cry.
At such times no voice, not even Mary's, seemed to soothe him as did
that of Peveril, and his most violent struggles were controlled by the
gentle firmness of the young athlete.
All through that dreadful night Mary Darrell watched Peveril with
tear-filled eyes, wondering at his strength and gentleness, and
unconsciously loving him for them. Not that she would for an instant
have admitted such a thing even to herself. She tried instead to
believe that he was the cause of all this sorrow, and that she hated
him for it. "In whatever he does," she said to herself, "he is
actuated by remorse, and a desire to atone in some way for ruining my
father's life."
The anxiously awaited dawn found Ralph Darrell lying quietly with
closed eyes and Peveril keeping wakeful watch beside him. Aunty Nimmo
had been sent to her bed long since, and Connell was fast asleep on
the floor of the hall just outside the sick-room door. Mary Darrell
sat in an easy-chair, overcome by exhaustion, also sleeping lightly.
As the growing light fell on her tear-stained face, crowned by a
wealth of close-clipped hair curling in tiny ringlets, Peveril looked
at her curiously, and wondered why he had never thought her beautiful
until that moment. Apparently conscious of the young man's gaze, the
girl suddenly opened her eyes, and a faint flush suffused her pale
cheeks. Ere either she or Peveril could speak, the muffled sound of a
steam-whistle broke the morning stillness.
"Our friends have come, Miss Darrell," whispered the watcher. "You
have just time to go to your room and refresh yourself with a dash of
cold water before they appear."
Nodding assent, the girl accepted the suggestion and departed.
Then Peveril sent Connell to meet the new-comers, who, as he knew,
would steam directly into the land-locked basin, and remained to
finish his vigil alone.
Suddenly, as he sat absorbed in meditation, the madman, who had been
watching through half-closed eyes, sprang upon him without a sound of
warning and clutched his throat with a vise-like grip.
Not even the utmost exertion of Peveril's splendid strength served to
loose that horrid hold. In silence he fought for his life, until he
grew black in the face and his eyes started from their sockets. His
head seemed on the point of bursting. He reeled, staggered, and then,
together with his terrible assailant, fell heavily to the floor. As
they did so, the old man's head struck on a sharp corner; he uttered a
moan, and at last the deadly clutch on Peveril's throat was relaxed.
With his next moment of consciousness Peveril was sitting on the floor
gasping for breath, and Ralph Darrell lay motionless beside him in a
pool of blood. Then came quick steps on the stair, and Mary Darrell,
accompanied by Major Arkell and the doctor from Red Jacket, entered
the room.
For an instant the girl stared horror-stricken at the scene before
her. Then she darted forward and clasped her father's body in her
arms, crying out as she did so:
"You have killed him, Richard Peveril!--killed an old man, sick and
helpless; robbed him of his all, and then murdered him! Oh,
papa!--dear, dear papa! Why did I leave you for a single minute?"
"My! How she hates poor Mr. Peril!" whispered Nelly Trefethen, who had
come to act as nurse, and who, guided by Mike Connell, reached the
doorway in time to witness the tableau, as well as to hear Mary
Darrell's cruel words.